


Only What You Want

by pepperlandgirl4



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-10
Updated: 2016-10-10
Packaged: 2018-08-21 18:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8256710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pepperlandgirl4/pseuds/pepperlandgirl4
Summary: Set during 3.1, so spoilery references. Mostly PWP and Arthur paying a little for being a prat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> How could I not write porn when Arthur says things like "Is your little bottom sore?" I mean, really. ~

“What’s that, sire?” Merlin put his mouth right next to Arthur’s ear so the prince would hear him over the sounds of his own cries. “What? Is your little bottom sore?” 

“Mer…lin…” 

“What, sire?” Merlin’s fingers dug into Arthur’s hip, aching from the force of his grip. Arthur didn’t bruise easily, but there would be marks. Five, long red ones that wouldn’t fade for a long time. Merlin bent his head and closed his teeth in the tendon of Arthur’s neck, biting until the other man shouted. “I can’t understand you.” 

“I…can’t…” 

“Oh, you want me to stop?” Merlin’s other hand snuck around Arthur’s body and he gripped the half-erect, sticky shaft. Come coated it, and there was more fluid reluctantly leaking from the top. Merlin swiped his thumb across the purple skin, pressing on the spongy flesh until Arthur started to buck back. His muscles flexed and rippled, his entire frame shaking. “You have to say it. You have to tell me.” 

“Fuck…I…” 

“Tell me. _Order_ me to stop, sire.” Merlin’s thumb was moving in slow, slow circles, but his hips were still driving into Arthur with enough force to bend Arthur’s back. His face slid against his pillow, eyes closed, mouth opening and closing, damp hair stuck to his temples. “Maybe you haven’t had enough? Maybe you need more?” 

“More? No…no…” 

“No, you don’t need more?” Merlin pulled back until only his head fit inside Arthur’s ass. “Then order me to stop.” 

Arthur’s hand shot forward, his fingers scraping desperately at the headboard, searching for any purchase. But his slick skin only slid over the wood, finally falling to clutch at Arthur’s pillow. “Don’t…don’t stop.” 

Merlin smiled against Arthur’s neck. “That’s what I thought.” A small twist of his wrist, and Arthur was hard again, the blood rushing hotly to his tender flesh. Arthur jerked hard, spine straightening, ass clenching so hard around Merlin that he couldn’t move. For a moment, Merlin felt his control slipping. He gasped for breath and swallowed, tried to count to ten, reminded himself that Arthur _counted_ on his control. Arthur was counting on him. 

But if he wasn’t going to lose his mind, he needed to sit up. The smell of Arthur’s sweat and hair, the sound of his whimpered pleas so close to Merlin’s ear was too much. He sat up, unpeeling himself from Arthur’s back, and swiveled his hips, eliciting a low groan from Arthur, his shoulders shaking. He clenched down again, and Merlin burned. Biting down on his lip hard enough to draw blood, Merlin pulled free of him. 

“No,” Arthur protested. “Don’t stop…don’t…” He rutted his hips forward, fucking Merlin’s hand like he thought he might die if he stopped. Perhaps he genuinely felt he would. Merlin put his other hand flat on Arthur’s back and closed his eyes, focusing on nothing more than the flow of blood beneath his skin and the heat. The all-consuming heat. If they kept this up, Arthur would burn them both. “Merlin... _please_ …” 

Merlin moved his hand lower, using his fingers to spread Arthur’s cheeks. His hole was stretched and puffy, already slick with come. Merlin spread it around the ring of muscle with his finger. Arthur choked something like _I’m going to kill you_ , his hips moving with even more urgency. Merlin replaced the pressure of his finger with his tongue, teasing the rapidly clenching muscle with the tip of his tongue. 

“Merlin!” 

Merlin decided to take Arthur’s shout as encouragement, and he pushed the skin deep inside, tasting his own spending and oil and Arthur’s earthy musk. Arthur was shouting continuously now, his voice bouncing off the walls and probably echoing into the courtyard. Merlin was too far gone to care if all of Camelot heard Arthur come undone. Merlin’s own cock throbbed in time with the relentless pulsing behind his eyes and it would stop if he just gave in. He didn’t feel like a person anymore, his body was losing its shape, unwinding itself in long chains and wrapping around Arthur until the links bit into his flesh. 

They were moving in time with each other, and Merlin didn’t remember setting this rhythm. He used his whole mouth, thrusting his tongue, letting his teeth scrape across Arthur’s flesh, a brush of his lips soothing the flesh when he had to. He looked up, following the line of Arthur’s arched spine until he couldn’t see anymore.

“Merlin…Merlin now…” 

Merlin ripped his mouth away and straightened again, driving his cock into Arthur’s slick passage. He moved with more force than was necessary, tearing into the clenching muscle, nails digging into Arthur’s shoulders as he braced himself. Merlin was well aware of the signs now. Knew what it meant when Arthur twisted his body just so, when he made that gargled sound below each gasp. His walls fluttered around Merlin’s length, and Merlin tightened his fingers around Arthur’s cock, giving him one more pull. 

Merlin had withstood three of Arthur’s orgasms already that night. The first had been wholly unmagical, his cock resting on the back of Merlin’s tongue, his palm on the back of Merlin’s head, holding him close. He thrust down Merlin’s throat, burying himself as deeply as he could, still mostly dressed, Merlin’s face still wet from the bucket of water he’d upended over Merlin’s head. The second time had also been without the aid of magic, Arthur fucking his ass so slowly, smirking, pleased with himself as he reduced Merlin to quivering silence. 

The third time might have been a bit of revenge for that smirk. Not that Arthur felt the least bit punished, or even realized he had been punished. His hips stuttered back as the pleasure ignited him for the fourth time, and only a few lines of fresh come coated Merlin’s palm. The crazy thing was, Merlin knew he could use a whisper of magic on Arthur again, and Arthur wouldn’t protest. No matter how sore he would be the next morning, no matter how many bruises painted their skin, no matter how raw their throats felt. Merlin was exhausted, almost wrung out, sticky and quivering, but Arthur felt so fucking good. 

Merlin released Arthur’s softening cock and held both palms over Arthur’s back, not quite touching him. Merlin bit his lip again, this time with concentration, as golden magic poured out of him. Arthur wouldn’t feel a thing, except the sensation of Merlin smoothing his palms up and down his spine. It was the only way Merlin knew to safely unleash the power that billowed inside of him, growing more demanding over the seconds and the minutes and the days he spent with Arthur. Merlin imagined Arthur looking over his shoulder and seeing the golden power flowing from Merlin, flowing between them, and smiling because he understood. Smiling at Merlin because he was Arthur and they were together. 

The magic disappeared in a blink and Merlin clenched his hands into first as he snapped his hips one more time. Merlin laid across Arthur’s back, resting on him, knowing Arthur would be able to support his weight despite being boneless and worn out. Merlin kissed the bite mark on Arthur’s neck, infusing the caress with all the affection he couldn’t show before. 

“God in heaven, Merlin.” He shrugged Merlin off of him, not unkindly, and rolled onto his back. Before Merlin could decide where he wanted to put himself, Arthur hooked an arm around his shoulders and rather roughly pulled him against his chest. Merlin huffed, but didn’t try to extricate himself from Arthur’s embrace. “What do you do to me?” 

“Only what you want.” 

“You want it, too,” Arthur said gruffly, though his voice went up a little at the end, only lightly hinting at a question. 

“Mmm,” Merlin agreed sleepily. They had a few hours until he needed to dress Arthur for the feast in Morgana’s honor, and he could already tell Arthur was going to let him doze on his chest. He didn’t always appreciate Merlin draping his sweaty self all over Arthur after sex, but sometimes he didn’t mind. Sometimes, he was just quiet and restful, absently stroking over Merlin’s skin while his mind drifted. 

“I hope I don’t have to ride any time soon.” 

Merlin smiled a little and just stopped himself from saying _you deserved it._ “You could have stopped me at any time.” 

Arthur snorted. “Right.” 

“You could. If you weren’t so greedy and spoiled.” 

“Be careful there,” Arthur said mildly, not sounding the least annoyed. “Or I’ll make you bathe my hounds.” 

Merlin lifted his head. “Bathe your hounds?” 

“Yes. Dogs get dirty, too, Merlin.” 

“If that’s the case, you probably already have somebody bathing them once a week.” 

“I do, but that doesn’t mean you can’t do it.” 

Merlin cupped Arthur’s cock. “Or I could stay here.” 

Arthur groaned. “No, no, don’t start again. It’s not as though I can spend the whole feast standing at the table.” 

“Oh? Didn’t you just tell me yesterday that you’re the crown prince and you can do whatever the hell you like?” 

“To _you_ , Merlin. I’m the crown prince and I can do anything I want to _you._ ” 

“Oh, pardon me, sire. I misunderstood.” 

“That’s fine,” Arthur said comfortably. “Just don’t let it happen again.” A beat and then. “You’re smiling again.” 

“Does it disturb you?” 

“Yes, as does everything else about you.” 

“That’s not the impression I got earlier.” Merlin sat up. “But if I disturb you so much, I’ll be happy to leave you in peace.” 

“Get back here,” Arthur said, pulling him to his chest. “I tell you when I want you to go. Honestly, how hard is it to remember your place?” 

“I’ll strive to do better.” 

“Merlin…do you think she’s going to be okay?” 

“Gaius said…” 

“Yes, I heard what Gaius said. I do have functioning ears. But I’m beginning to wonder if you do.” 

“I don’t…I don’t know. I think so. She seems herself, doesn’t she?” 

“Yes. I just…don’t think Camelot could bear to lose her again.” 

Merlin didn’t know if Arthur was using Camelot as a stand-in for himself or for Uther. Merlin suspected Arthur could survive the loss of his adopted sister, if he had to, but he seriously doubted Uther could withstand it. He’d already been driven half-mad in the past year, Arthur helpless to do anything as his father descended into the depths of single-minded obsession. The body count had been meaningless to him as he depleted Camelot in the quest to find Morgana, and Merlin was certain that Uther hadn’t lost a moment of sleep over their sacrifice. They weren’t people to Uther, simply tools to be used and discarded for what Uther considered to be the greater good. 

At times, Merlin had wondered if Arthur was to be one of those sacrifices. Uther had regarded his son with cold eyes more than once, taking his measure as Morgana’s absence stretched and finding Arthur lacking. Arthur had withstood each withering look and barked order, absorbing the blows and redoubling his efforts. He pushed himself past exhaustion and madness, past carnage and death, and Merlin had been there for every second of it, caught in his own tangled brambles. Arthur had believed Morgana kidnapped. Merlin had believed her murdered by his hand. 

But she was safe and sound in her own bed once again, and they could all breathe easier. They could even smile again. 

“Camelot will not lose her again,” Merlin said, though he had no business making such a promise. But he didn’t want Arthur to fret. He wanted Arthur to be content, wholly unencumbered by the concerns that had weighed on him for the past year. 

“Merlin.” 

“Hmm?” 

“Attend to me after the feast.” 

“I think you’re missing something from that sentence.” 

“What?”

“Didn’t you ever learn manners?” 

Arthur hooked his finger under Merlin’s chin and tilted his head to touch his lips. Merlin had started to feel like he was mostly human again, but he melted under the kiss, his limbs immediately useless again. “Merlin, attend to me after the feast, or I’ll have you put in the stocks.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“I’ll have you flogged.” 

“No, you won’t.” 

“I’ll devise a punishment so nasty, they’ll speak of it for years.” 

“I don’t think you will.” 

“Merlin, attend to me tonight, or I’ll track you down and we’ll have to do this in your tiny, disgusting bed.” 

“It’s clean.” 

Arthur rolled his eyes. “If you say so.” 

“It is!” 

“Don’t act all offended. We both know that your idea of clean doesn’t necessarily meet a high standard.” 

“No, it doesn’t meet the highest standards of all.” 

“Are you going to let me fuck you tonight or what?” 

Merlin cupped Arthur’s balls, idly rolling them between his fingers. “Say it nicely, and I’ll consider it.” 

“I need you.” 

“Then I’ll be waiting here. I’m always here when you need me.” 

Arthur seemed happy enough with that. Merlin kissed his shoulder, eager for the hellish year to finally be over. Letting himself believe things might settle, might even normalize. Letting himself forget that life never worked that way as the late afternoon light slanted across the bed.


End file.
